


Shouldn't, Wouldn't, Couldn't.

by D3moira



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Love You, Implied Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene, One Shot, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Short One Shot, Stand Alone, Unrequited Love, Unresolved, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6312493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D3moira/pseuds/D3moira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick little Bethyl thing, with a confession & unrequited feelings on both sides. (4b, AU playing with the idea of Beth just outright saying her feelings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shouldn't, Wouldn't, Couldn't.

It's a mistake. The whole damn thing is a great big mistake, like pretending to smoke a firecracker. His eyebrow might survive this encounter, though not much of the rest of him would. But it doesn’t feel like a mistake, not until it’s too late. He was pawing through the magazines on the kitchen counter, all spouting gardening facts to embarrass your neighbor and win over your husband and honestly, Daryl felt dumber for even glancing over it.

❛Daryl – Daryl?❜

Beth was popping into the wrong room on repeat, and he didn’t blame her. Things were a little hectic, being in a house with two floors and more rooms than he’d cared to count. He could hear her before she appeared, given the clip of her boot against the wooden floor. They’d taken to a show home, no supplies but decorated nicely – if you were into wax fruit and too much lace.

Daryl wasn’t.

Comically, Beth had her little fists by her side, chin up, eyes mad. She really did have that mad glint to the soft blue, set, fixed, ready, like she was going to shout about a dumb comment he’d made a few days back, or try to convince him that their family group was still alive. All things she had done before, but this was different, and Daryl was on the defensive.

Beth stood by him, staring, waiting, and he didn’t know what she was waiting for. Was he supposed to know? Or guess? He shifted uncomfortably, standing straighter to use his height as a balance to her determination.

❛What?❜

The corner of his mouth twitched as she stepped closer. He didn’t flinch, not properly. He stood his ground, his eyebrow raised, his hands equally balled up by his sides. Something about mirroring body language to appease people – or to get them to like you. The details didn’t matter right now.

❛C’mere.❜ Beth was using a voice he didn't quite recognize. It was nice, low, but alarming from her.

❛M'here – ❜

❛No, I mean, come here.❜

There’S hands at his cheeks, and the gentle pull of her against him. He hadn’t expected this. He had expected anything but this. She had been acting on edge all day, jumpy, skittish, and distant. He figured he would hear about it when she snapped, but she was holding it together. Or had had been. Right now, seemed like she was breaking and coming together all at once, and Daryl thought an ocean he had seen on TV one time, and then there was her.

To cope, his brain had blanked itself. He wasn’t opposed to kissing people, he was just – no, wait, he was opposed to kissing people. Because kisses meant attachment, and attachment meant positive things were happening to him, and that didn’t happen. This didn’t happen. Gentle lips pressed against his chapped, hairy face – no. Pretty women like Beth Greene don’t snap and kiss dirty old men like Daryl Dixon, except she had, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Should he apologize?

It was brief, and soft, and too quickly over, but it hadn’t happened fast enough. The duality kept striking him, his heart going too quickly, and his mind going too slowly. She’d had her eyes closed longer than he cared for, but when they cracked back open, there wasn’t that glint. There was resolution, some kind of calm. She looked happy.

A crooked little smile split into a proper grin, her cheeks red and she probably hadn’t a damn clue how cute she was, or how incredibly underpre-fucking-pared he had been for that. ❛I wanted to do that, at least once.❜

You can do it as many times as you want..

That was what a voice whispered in his mind, the voice that came from the full side of his mirror. Not the cracked, ground up, warped and webbed view he held. There was the knowledge of what someone should say in a moment like this, but all he has is quiet anger. Anger at her for pushing into his space, for giving him that without warning, without – without him being prepared.

Beth looked like she would say something else, but her mouth moved around the words, and nothing came out. A shallow, breathy sound came out, her cheeks continued to redden, but Daryl just stared like she’d slapped him. The apology was implied on her part, but not needed. Wasn’t her fault he could take every hit in the world, and be hurt by a kiss. He opted for shouldering away the worry in her eyes.

❛Sure.❜ His voice was empty, shaken, but he wasn’t running. He was here.

And Daryl let it sit, looking between her lips, her eyes, and then down. He drew her into a hug, a gesture he had learned to accept and embrace. It was a step in the right direction, at least. She folded willingly into it, and Daryl knew he wouldn’t mention that kiss again, not unless she asked. Wasn’t a soul worth telling, or a thing worth telling.

❛I love you.❜ The chime is soft, sweet, and she meant it.

Great.

Beth didn’t get it. She didn’t. She had gotten told she was loved more times in an hour than he had in a lifetime, and she didn’t get it. She didn’t get that her attention was like a magnifying glass on an ant, roasting the little bastard to death while he silently screamed. That’s exactly what it was. She had the best intentions, she must. There’s no way she persists with his nasty, cranky ass unless she does love him.

But that doesn’t matter to Daryl. Not in the heat of the moment, not while he’s trying to focus, not while there’s a hundred reasons going through his mind why she shouldn’t put up with him. He’s a bruised, beaten, nasty, gnarled, stitched up with booze and a plain ol’stupid hick. He was a dime a dozen before, with his only saving grace his tenacity – the same could be said for any STD, or stubborn mutt.

The softness of her hand is near enough to convince him she’s telling him the truth. The words form from her mouth like they’re supposed to, lilting, gentle, but firm. Firm in the way you have to be, to get him to pay attention to you. He doesn’t put up with meandering, passive words. It irritates him, because he can tell what someone says, and what someone means.

And shit, she meant it.

But she can’t. She can’t mean it. She shouldn’t. It’s not a love he’s supposed to have, and he isn’t sure its a love he can return. It’s selfish and one-sided, like her offering him a sacred artifact while he spat on her shoes. For him to say it back wasn’t real. Daryl didn’t know if he knew what love was, or if he knew how to recognize it, but he saw it in others. He saw it when Rick was with Michonne, and his kids. He saw it between Hershel and his girls. He saw it with Glenn and Maggie, and Carol and Sophia, and –

Fuck him, he saw it now, at him, the wrong target, the wrong person, it was all fucking wrong.

❛I didn’t ask y’to. I don’t want it.❜ Daryl doesn’t want it, because he’s disappointed her enough, and he doesn’t want to let her in. She’d see all the cracks and creaks and where his skin met with wood, where he stopped feeling and started just knowing things. He knew what love was to Beth, he knew what he saw in her eyes, and he knew he wanted to say it back.

But he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> This had no official start or end, and I kind of like it that way. Eventually I'll build a bigger fic with proper slow burn, but for the moment I like exploring their firsts in different ways, just to see how they react.


End file.
